


Get Up, Get Down (The Prom Is For Losers Remix)

by prettykitty_aya (words_unravel)



Category: Bandom, My Chemical Romance
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-05-16
Updated: 2010-05-16
Packaged: 2017-10-09 12:07:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,176
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/87147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/words_unravel/pseuds/prettykitty_aya
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>Bob hates dances. But he kind of really, really likes Frank.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Get Up, Get Down (The Prom Is For Losers Remix)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [pearl_o](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pearl_o/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Deep in the Belly of a Whale](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21338) by [pearl_o](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pearl_o/pseuds/pearl_o). 
  * Inspired by [You're So Lucky I'm Around](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21536) by [pearl_o](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pearl_o/pseuds/pearl_o). 
  * Inspired by [Call It Love Rocket](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21538) by [pearl_o](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pearl_o/pseuds/pearl_o). 



> [**A/N:** Second remix ever. Still nervous. Still last minute. *sigh* A quick thanks to [angelgazing](http://angelgazing.livejournal.com) for the look-over.]  
> [**Prompt:** [Remix...Redux 8: Magic Eight Ball](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/Remix2010/profile) \- remix of [pearl_o](http://pearl-o.livejournal.com)'s [Whale-HS-AU series](http://archiveofourown.org/series/1061)]

_**Straight Shot To The Moon**_   
Bob's laying on his bed, doing his best to not think about what day it is.

It's just a regular Saturday, just like every other Saturday before it. He's not thinking about the fact that the gym's probably decked out in ridiculous fashion. He's not thinking that half the student body is at home, probably panicking about whether their dress is pretty enough or not, or that the other half is worrying that the corsage sitting in the fridge doesn't match said dress. He's _definitely_ not thinking of the way Frank's face just kind of blanked out a little each time the word 'prom' was mentioned at school for the last week.

The thing is, Bob doesn't _do_ dances. A fact of which Frank is well aware. Frank has _accepted_ this. It still doesn't help though. It doesn't help at all because Bob _is_ remembering the way Frank's eyes traced the fliers lining the school's hallways, how he'd turn his head away whenever he thought Bob was watching.

Prom.

Prompromprom_prom_.  
God, Bob _hates_ dances.

But he kind of really, _really_ likes Frank. Shit.

He's climbing out of the bed just as his mom pokes her head around the door. They've had numerous discussions about knocking since he'd turned fifteen. She's usually better at remembering. "Mom, what-?"

She raises an eyebrow at him. "Well?"

He scowls. "What?"

"Did you finally come to your senses, young man?" And man, she can still make him feel like a stupid, little kid sometimes. Even though he has a sneaking suspicion, he still asks, "About what?"

"About not disappointing that boy of yours?" A blush heats his face and he scrubs a hand over it, mumbling through his fingers, "Mom-"

"Robert Cory Bryar-" _Shit_. "Get your butt out of that bed and into the shower right now." That makes him jerk his head up. There's a big smile on her face as she continues, "You're expected at the Iero's in an hour."

"What?!" Bob's getting a little tired of that word, but, "What about-"

His mom ducks back out of the room before he can finish his question. He hears the tell-tale crinkle of plastic right before she comes back. After a moment of surprised silence, he just raises his eyebrows at her and mutters, "Well, at least it's not powder blue."

*

Forty minutes later, he's out the door and down the sidewalk. There's a couple of twenties in his pocket, slipped there by his dad with a grin and a warning not to stay out too late.  
Frank's totally going to lose his shit when he sees the tux and Bob kind of can't wait.

* * *

_**This Ain't No Time To Be Cool**_   
"Dude, where are we going? Mikey?"

The only response he gets is a quiet _come on_, so Pete just keeps trailing behind Mikey. It's so dark that he can barely see his own hand in front of his face and when Mikey stops abruptly, Pete's plastered against his back. His hands fit perfectly around Mikey's slender hips and he says in a low voice, "Hey there, Mikey Way." He can feel the rumble of laughter against his chest and he smiles into Mikey's neck.

"Come on," Mikey says again and starts climbing up a short ladder that Pete hadn't even seen there. He admires the view as Mikey disappears through a small door and then scrambles up the ladder himself when Mikey doesn't come back.

He's tumbled halfway through the door, hands on the floor in front of him when he actually gets a look at where they are. "Holy shit, Mikeyway."

Below them the gym is lit up with hundreds of strands of lights. At one end, the stage is currently empty and Pete can see some of the band members wandering around behind the stage. The bleachers are dotted with groups of students and Pete watches as their gym coach hands out little glasses of punch. He wonders vaguely if Bert and Quinn managed to spike it yet.

Pete has no idea how Mikey managed to get access, but as he swings his feet in the air from the rafter he's currently sitting on, he has to admit it's pretty much the coolest thing ever. The band starts again a few minutes later and Pete spends a good ten minutes pointing out all the ridiculous dancing couples.

"Dude, _dude_. Guess who just walked in?" Pete squints. They're kind of high up. "I think Frank's wearing a matching handkerchief. Oh man, I have got to give Bob so much shit on Monday-"

"Pete." He turns his head only to have Mikey stop him from talking. By kissing him.

They break apart after a second and Mikey turns his head back to the floor beneath them. Pete stares at his profile for a moment, catching the slight up-tilt at the corner of Mikey's mouth. After a moment, he turns his attention back down below them. Mikey's shoulder is warm against his.  
"Hey, isn't your brother supposed to here tonight?"

* * *

_**Jonah Never Had It This Good**_   
They're both slightly tipsy at this point, stumbling over one of the stools in the art room.

"Shhh, shhhh." She can feel the hushing sounds against her mouth. She licks at the taste of vodka and Gerard moans loudly. She giggles and they both land in a crumpled pile behind a rather large canvas. Lindsey hopes it will be enough to keep them out of sight even if she doesn't really care at this moment.

"Linds. Lindsey, hey." Gerard's kind of ridiculously pretty in the half-light that filters from outside, Lindsey notes. Actually, he's pretty much always ridiculously pretty and a vague idea of dressing him up like a girl and seeing how many people they can fool pops into her head. And then, because she's got a lot of love for shock value, she gets an idea about making out with Gerard all dolled up like that. Then she starts thinking about that. And it's, um. Wow. Lindsey never really thought about it before, but that's kind of kinky. And hot. Really hot. And-

"Jesus, Gerard." He's hard against her thigh and she shifts her leg closer. He bites at her collarbone, a ragged moan muffled against her skin. It's definitely something they'll have to discuss at a later date. Right now she'd just like to get through this without getting caught. Mostly without getting caught anyway.

It's just then a noise catches her attention and she smacks a hand over Gerard's mouth. He continues humping her leg and she rolls her eyes.

The squeak of shoes on the linoleum floor fades as whoever it is continues down the hallway. She removes her hand from his mouth and he smiles at her, eyes bright. She smiles back and he slides a hand under her shirt. The pads of his fingers are a little rough, catching just a bit as they travel across her stomach.  
His hands still always tremble when he touches her. Lindsey likes that.

* * *


End file.
